


Words Are Futile Devices

by IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Exy (All For The Game), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Cats, Fluff, Futile Devices, M/M, Runaway!Neil, Sufjan Stevens - Freeform, ice cream tummy, lecturer!Andrew, mentions of depression, possible polyamorous relationship, there will be a second one, this is just one alternative..., witsec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-07-19
Packaged: 2020-02-27 22:20:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18748249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos/pseuds/IKnowWhoYouAre_Damianos
Summary: Eight years ago, Neil Abram Josten aka Nick Abram Johnson aka Nathaniel Abram Wesninski was Andrew Minyard's roommate in college. Right when they were about to become a thing, Neil had to leave without leaving a message. Neil thought he would never see Andrew again up until the day when their paths cross in Chicago...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, first of all: Sorry to all my fellows waiting for a new SAST update... it'll take some time but I didn't forget it. I had to get this idea out though and there will be a second version, an alternate version, of it as soon as I get to write it. For now, sorry for the angst... Love
> 
> Thanks to [Embassy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Embassy/pseuds/Embassy) for helping with a quick beta.
> 
> The whole story is inspired by Sufjan Steven's [Futile Devices](https://genius.com/Sufjan-stevens-futile-devices-lyrics)

It had been eight years since Neil Josten had seen Andrew Minyard for what was supposed to be the last time ever, and here Neil was walking down the street, spotting the man in a long queue tapping along on his smartphone as he was obviously waiting for his food to be wrapped and packed. 

Neil had thought his brain was playing tricks on him the moment he’d spotted a familiar blond thatch with an even more familiar indifferent face, short and bulky frame wrapped in black skinnies and a tight black shirt. 

It could have been anyone, but the black armbands covering pale skin left no doubt.   


Eight years since Andrew had returned to an empty apartment, every trace of Nick Abram Johnson’s existence extinguished. Eight years since Nick Abram Johnson had been moved by WITSEC, pulled out of his life as a math and language student and thrown into a new identity once more, this time working as a call center agent. Eight years in which Nick Abram Johnson had gotten fifteen new identities, had gone through hell and back, had watched his father die, and yet he still couldn’t live freely with some of his father’s henchmen still on the run, waiting for the right moment to take Neil down.

Eight years since everything had changed and yet remained the same. 

Neil stared for a moment longer, allowing himself to grieve for something he and Andrew could have had, before he shook away memories of heated tongues dancing and hot hands mapping each other’s bodies. The cold October air suddenly stung on his flushed cheeks in the same way his numb heart stung at the sight of the person who could have been his future, who was still able to set his icy heart on fire in an instant. 

Neil fell back into his jogging before he could make a decision he would regret. 

Andrew Minyard had never been and would never be a possibility.

~

October was still a month Andrew couldn’t like, no matter how beautiful the colours of the leaves turned out to be or how ardently Nicky or Aaron tried to keep his mind occupied with something else. To fill it with anything but Nick Abram Johnson. In ten days it would be eight years since Abram had left Andrew behind, without a note, without a warning, disappearing as if the ground had opened up and swallowed him, leaving Andrew on the surface where he didn’t belong anymore.

Andrew could have said something. Maybe he should have said something. Maybe, if he had said something, Abram wouldn’t have left. Maybe, if he hadn’t told the man over and over again that he didn’t do boyfriends, that he didn’t do feelings, that he certainly didn’t do domestic relationships and that whatever they had was nothing, Andrew wouldn’t have to spend every fucking October with this heavy lump in his throat and the black monster of ever-whispering thoughts in his head telling him how much he was the only one to blame for this. Telling him that he had fucked up the only thing he’d ever really wanted. 

Andrew hated Abram for everything he had done to him, but most of all for making him not hate him at all.

“Sir?” 

Andrew was shaken out of his thoughts by the barista’s soft voice, her face bearing an expression of pity and worry. 

“Sorry, a caramel chocolate fudge latte with extra whipped cream and chocolate chips. Extra tall.”

She entered his order without batting an eye, scribbling his name onto a huge cup and giving him a receipt. Andrew propped his back against a bar table, watching the bustling crowd behind the huge shop window. 2.7 million people and all he felt was loneliness. Maybe he should move again. Maybe following Aaron and Katelyn hadn’t been the right decision, no matter how much he enjoyed spending time with his niece and nephew. 

His eyes scanned unfamiliar faces, every single one seeming like nothing but a mere hologram. For years he’d searched for nothing but ocean eyes and freckles and soft curls that Andrew could still feel slip through his fingers. Together with his psychiatrist’s help, he’d slowly stopped, but in October he couldn’t help it. 

There had never again been someone who had held his interest in the way Abram had held it. Of course, there had been flings, here and there - meaningless touches, meaningless kisses, meaningless sex in meaningless places. But nothing had ever made him feel again.

Andrew’s fingers tapped along on the tabletop to a song he’d listened to this morning, long forgotten and still ever present in the back of his mind. When he closed his eyes he could still see his roommate singing along to it all summer, his curls dancing around as the boy had bopped his head, laughing delightedly whenever Andrew had turned off the radio to spite him.

There. Right there on the 4th of October, eight years after Andrew had come back to an empty apartment, to an empty bed, an empty life, Nick Abram Johnson passed by a coffee shop in the middle of Chicago, a thousand miles away from where their paths had crossed for the first time, making Andrew a witness to an impossible coincidence. Maybe his mind was fucking with him as it often did around the anniversaries, but Andrew was a drowning man and every straw held out to clutch onto was worth a try. 

Andrew didn’t even need to think about it. He didn’t give a single fuck about the coffee, rushing through the crowd, stumbling out the door and chasing after the auburn thatch he’d just spotted a second ago. The alley was crowded and Andrew damned every single person poking along in front of him and every single mother pushing around a stroller, keeping him from picking up the pace. 

He even stepped off the sidewalk, almost getting hit by a cyclist who cussed Andrew out in a way he’d rarely heard someone swear. The ginger rounded the corner, leaving Andrew only the option of elbowing people away to not lose him. The moment he reached the corner and rounded it, he looked into an empty street. 

In the distance, Andrew could see a father with his two kids, buying ice cream from a turquoise ice cream truck. A few shops lined the small alleyway, luring Andrew into looking through every single window, but his target was nowhere to be seen.

Andrew pushed back his bangs and sighed. Maybe it hadn’t been Abram in the first place. Maybe he was slowly going crazy. Maybe he should talk to Bee about upping his doses. 

He ambled over to the ice cream truck and bought a huge cup of chocolate and peppermint, slowly digging the little plastic spoon into the whipped cream covered with chocolate sauce and sprinkles. A huge splotch of ice cream melted on his tongue, giving him a tremendously painful brain freeze, glazing over memories of shared truths and slow kisses with a soothing cloud of numbness.

Maybe it was finally time to stop chasing a pipe dream. 

~

They had called at six in the morning, giving him nothing more than one day to pack his life into yet another set of boxes. Neil Josten would be gone in eighteen hours, nothing but a dead name in one of several FBI databases, marked as a used cover identity so it would never be available again. 

Neil was tired. He didn’t want to move again, didn’t want to leave the only two people he’d called friends in the past eleven months of his life in Chicago. He wanted to say goodbye, wanted to let Dan and Matt know that they would never see him again, that he had never been their co-worker but some walking disaster trapped in a protection system that kept him existing but not alive. He was damn tired of losing people he loved, although there wasn’t anything that could hurt him anymore. Not in the way it had hurt to leave Andrew behind, even if Andrew had always insisted on them having been nothing.

Rain had soaked his running gear some time ago. A look at his watch revealed he’d been running for over two hours. His body was covered with goosebumps, his slack jaw quivering, his teeth chattering. Tears sat in the corners of his eyes at the tightness in his chest, making breathing an impossibility. His eyes strayed to the street name sign and his lungs felt like collapsing. Looking up at the house number almost made him almost black out. Number 24. Seven parties. He scanned their names and stopped at one. 

Of all the possible directions, his feet had carried him to this house, only to let him down by the pile of shards that once used to be his life, his everything. Before he knew it, he’d rung the bell, the sound of the buzzer being nothing but a mere faint sound in his ears.

Neil walked up the stairs, his heart throbbing in his chest, feeling like coming to a halt with every inch he got closer to the fourth floor. It took him three attempts to finally knock on the wooden door in front of him, eyes blurry from tears and rain and panic.

When the door opened, Neil could finally draw a breath. 

~

Whoever dared to ring Andrew’s bell on the 14th of October was definitely suicidal. Even Aaron and Nicky had learned to not bother him whenever doomsday came around. Andrew never left the house on this day, always cuddling up under a blanket with his cats, binge watching Netflix in a comfy sweater with ungodly amounts of ice cream and pizza to wallow in self-pity. 

Hence, it surprised him when the ring of the door bell resounded from the hallway while Marie Kondo helped drifted apart couples to save their marriage by rearranging some cupboards. If only Andrew could just throw out some ugly mugs and unread books in order to get some closure.

When it rang again, he sighed and heaved himself off the couch, shuffling over to the intercom with a tub of fudge ice cream in his hand. He scooped some more pieces of fudge and vanilla ice cream out of the container as someone knocked on the door. With the spoon sticking upside down in his mouth, he pushed down the handle and opened it. What he saw made him almost choke on the melted mixture running down his throat.

Andrew wanted to say something, but it was as if his eidetic memory had combusted within a second, forgetting all words he had ever learned, leaving him to utmost blankness. 

“Hey, Andrew.”

_ Hey, Andrew. _ He had ripped out Andrew’s heart, had left behind nothing but a dysfunctional mess incapable of ever feeling again since the day Abram had disappeared without another word, and here Abram was standing in front of him, letting out a shallow greeting with tears running down his perfect flushed cheeks, letting Andrew drown once more in the deep blue sea of his eyes.

“Hey,” Andrew eventually croaked out, stabbing the spoon into the tub like a needle into a voodoo doll as if it would make his aching heart more plausible. 

Abram slid down the wall until he sat on the floor of the hallway, propping his forehead onto his knees. It seemed like he tried to draw breaths, but all Andrew could hear was gasping. It worked like an automatism, the way his hand came down and settled in the nape of Abram’s neck, squeezing slightly like it had happened a thousand times before.

“Breathe, Abram.”

It took some time for his breathing to even out, but it eventually did and Abram got up off the floor. Andrew led him inside his apartment, shutting up Marie Kondo and walking Abram over to the sofa, which was the same one as back in college where they had spent so many nights talking, sharing secrets, getting closer and kissing, comfortably surrounded by the soft upholstery.

When Andrew was sure Abram wouldn’t collapse right there, he strolled over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water and a bottle of beer. Abram accepted the water with a small nod, wiping away the remnants of tears with the sleeve of his shirt. 

They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, and Andrew felt like he was coming apart at the seams at the sight of the one person he’d always wanted to see once more, just to make sure he wasn’t dead so he could kill him himself for what he had done to him.

“Abram,” he finally said, unable to stand the silence any longer. “What are you doing here?” Andrew sighed and put down his glasses, pinching his nose in exhaustion. Abram looked at him, pupils still dilated from the adrenaline rushing through his body. 

“I- I don’t know, to be honest. I got a call this morning and- Listen, I know this sounds like a huge joke to you and I know what I’ve done to you isn’t excusable at all, but I panicked and I saw you a few days ago and I know I shouldn’t have done that - I really shouldn’t have - but I did, so I googled your address and this morning, when that call came in, I panicked and somehow I ended up here, because—” 

Andrew really tried to follow all the words which tumbled out of Abram’s mouth, clinging to his lips to not miss a detail -  _ not _ because his eyes had analyzed Abram’s lips anyway - but none of this made sense. 

“Andrew?” 

_ Shit. _ “I’m listening.” Andrew took a swig of beer and pressed his lips into a flat line.

“Oh. What I want to say is, I feel safe with you and I shouldn’t have bothered you and I think it’s better for me to go now. Sorry,” Abram said and got up from the sofa, stumbling towards the door. 

“Abram,” Andrew said as the man was about to push down the door handle and slip out, running away, leaving Andrew behind once more, but this time, Andrew wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let this man go, not again, all his questions still unanswered. Maybe, if he talked to him, Andrew could finally go on. 

Bee and him had talked about that scenario once, about what Andrew would do if he ever met Abram again. Andrew had said he would ignore or kill him. Bee had suggested he should talk to him to finally put the whole thing behind himself. Now, with the man finally standing in front of him, Andrew wanted to do neither. He wanted to tear the whole world down, rip this pipe dream apart like he had torn his heart into a million pieces when he’d disappeared eight years ago.

His stupid mouth betrayed him the moment he opened it. “Stay,” Andrew said, not even looking in the direction of the door. The door snapping shut was enough of an answer. Feet thumping onto the floor brought the rabbit back into the living room, fight or flight mode put on stand-by.

Abram slumped down into the cushions in defeat. Andrew recognized that he hadn’t changed a lot since college, except for a set of scars on both of his cheeks and all over his hands, but Andrew didn’t care at all. All he saw was the same gorgeous face he’d fallen for a long time ago and which still haunted him most nights. It hadn’t even been a decade, but looking at the man’s face, one would bet it had been a century. Abram looked much older, wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead, dark circles emphasizing how worn out he had to be. His face dropped into his scarred hands that rubbed over stubbly cheeks.

“Sleep. You look like a zombie,” Andrew eventually said, throwing a blanket and a pillow at Abram who caught them out of reflex. 

“Andrew, I don’t run over to you, have a breakdown in your hallway and sleep on your sofa. I mean,” Neil scoffed, then huffed, “don’t you have questions? Don’t you wanna know why I’m here? You sit there with your indifferent face, trying to prove to me or yourself or the world that you are not affected by all this, but I still know you. I still feel your tension radiating from your body and I’m sure even down the street I would feel it right now. You don’t de—”

“What? I don’t deserve this? I didn’t deserve you packing your stuff in the dead of night, leaving me behind after all the things I entrusted you with? Yet, you did it. So don’t come to me now with your sense of fairness. Nothing about this was ever fair,” Andrew hissed, biting the inside of his cheek. “And yet, I won’t do this to you. Whatever happened to you. It doesn’t matter now. What matters now is that you’re here. You’re soaked to your bones. You’re shivering. So get into the damn shower and take a nap. We’ll talk when you’re rested,” Andrew finished what was probably his most emotional outburst ever.

Andrew walked into his bedroom, taking a set of sweats and a big towel, and pushed the pile into Abram’s arm. “You reach the bathroom through the bedroom. I’ll prepare some tea.”

“Thank you,” Abram muttered and disappeared through the bedroom door. 

When Andrew heard the spray being turned on, he walked into the kitchen and chugged his beer while he waited for the kettle to boil up water for a pot of Earl Grey with lemon - just how Abram always liked it. He put the kettle down onto the end table with milk, a cup and a saucer, before he locked himself in his office. 

What a lost cause he was.

~

Neil woke up to the buzz of guitar strings with the blanket covering his head. He stretched his stiff body, making his vertebrae and joints pop. Sunlight hit his face and made him squint as he opened his eyes, feeling disoriented. 

Only when he spotted Andrew in a lounge chair by the window did his rising panic subside, replaced by warmth and safety. Andrew held a guitar in his lap and played with his eyes closed, humming along to a song Neil knew too well, sunlight highlighting Andrew’s fair hair and lashes. Neil thought he looked like some mystical figure, illuminated by heavenly light as if some god wanted to tell him: Look, there he is, the chosen one, your savior.

The armchair opposite to the sofa held a calico cat, lying on its back and playing with a red ball of wool, destroying whatever Andrew had crocheted before. Neil’s chest swelled at the sight, reminiscing about the blond in sweatpants with his glasses on, fidgeting with wool and a crochet hook, all to gift Neil a handmade beanie for his “birthday”.

The clock on the wall made Neil realize he had slept for four hours. Four hours since he’d stepped out of Andrew’s shower and had lain down on the familiar sofa. It felt like he had slept for days, warm and safe. Neil had asked himself a million times after being moved why only Andrew had ever been capable of making him feel like that. Neil had never felt like that again - never until today. He had realized far too late that he could only feel this with Andrew because their nothing had indeed been everything - at least to him - but that was over.

Neil ardently hoped for an alternate universe where they could have this, could have each other. If not now, then maybe one day, but it definitely wasn’t this one. He would have to leave soon and by six in the morning, Agent Browning would long have found a new place for Neil to stay. Not for Neil. Neil was only temporary. For  _ Nathaniel _ . 

As he swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and got up, he pushed away the dark thoughts trying to nestle in his brain. He moved over to the lounge chair and watched the metal vibrate underneath Andrew’s fingers. How he wished he could stay. 

If Andrew knew how often Neil had thought about how their lives could have looked if they had lived it together? If he knew that Neil was regretting his decision to go into WITSEC every day just because of Andrew? If he knew what Neil would give to just stay here, with his friends and him, watching him play guitar all day or crochet or snuggle up on the sofa with the cats in their laps, Neil’s head propped onto Andrew’s soft ice cream tummy? If he knew that he regretted every single day of his life that he had never told him the three words he’d wanted to tell him ever since they’d first kissed under the star-covered night sky in Andrew’s black Maserati almost a decade ago?

If Andrew didn’t know by now, he never would. The music had stopped.

“Hey,” Neil said, but didn’t move any closer. 

Andrew looked up at him, set the guitar aside and put on his glasses. “Hey. Slept well, rabbit?”

“Better than… I don’t know the last time I’ve slept so well,” Neil admitted with a hoarse voice, the collar of Andrew’s shirt slipping over his right shoulder as he rubbed his eyes. Andrew’s frame was still much broader than Neil’s, even though his tummy seemed even softer now than back then. Neil almost smiled at his discovery. 

Andrew got up and walked out onto the balcony, shaking out two cigarettes. He held one out for Neil who took it between his trembling hands and lit them. 

“I guess I owe you some answers,” Neil said and took a drag, igniting the cherry. 

Andrew’s eyes wandered over Neil’s face as he let out a waft of smoke. “Go ahead.”

Neil rubbed one foot over his shin, sighing exhaustedly. “Listen, I—” Neil stopped and rubbed his face once more. “Andrew, I never wanted to go. I had to.”

Andrew raised a brow and took another drag, blowing smoke into Neil’s face. “Was it fun to leave without a note, Johnson?”

Neil flinched at the name, not having heard it for such a long time. “It’s Josten.”

“What?”

“Josten. Neil Abram Josten, at least for now. It has never been Nick Johnson, and no, it isn’t Neil Josten either, so there’s no need to google it tomorrow.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m that desperate.” Andrew stared at Neil intently. “You’re like a walking conundrum, Abram. I can’t figure you out.”

“I’m nothing to be solved, Andrew.”

“Has everything been nothing but a lie?” Andrew stubbed his cigarette out and propped his back against the rail, gaze empty. “Don’t bullshit me!”

Neil swallowed at the harsh tone, but he knew it was an expression of how hurt Andrew really was. “Andrew,” he answered lowly, stepping into Andrew’s comfort zone with eyes darting to the blond’s mouth. “You have to believe me when I say I never wanted to leave you behind. I—You meant— Nothing has ever been harder than leaving you. I didn’t have a choice. I— My father, he… was a cruel man. I’m in WITSEC. They moved me without asking me because someone caught up to me.”

Andrew’s lips were pressed into a flat line, but his eyes showed everything he was feeling. Anger. Confusion. Fear. Neil lifted his hand but stopped right before cupping Andrew’s cheek. “Yes or no, Drew?” Another familiar ritual in a world full of insecurities. 

“Yes,” Andrew breathed and closed his eyes for a moment as Neil cupped his cheek. 

“I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“Can you tell me now?”

Neil huffed, shaking his head. “I wish I could, but I can’t. Not today.”

“If not today, then when?” Andrew asked, pushing Neil against the glass door. They were only a few inches apart now, so close that Neil could feel Andrew’s breath dancing over his face.

“When it’s safe,” Neil whispered and Andrew nodded. Heat shot through Neil’s body at their closeness, at Andrew’s familiar scent, and it seemed like the man could read his thoughts when he gripped Neil’s chin and tilted it up. 

“Don’t ever do this to me again, Abram. Whatever they say, stay. Stay because I won’t wait another ten years for this.” 

Neil had never heard Andrew like that. Andrew had always been like a closed book to everyone. All the more, Neil knew how much it meant to Andrew that Neil got to know this. “I wish I could just stay,” Neil said and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wish I would have never left.”

“Then don’t leave again.” He said it as if it was the easiest and most obvious thing in the world, the sunset at his back creating a glowing halo around his frame.

“I’m tired,” Neil said, knowing that Andrew knew what he meant. Tired of leaving, tired of running, tired of lying. 

“Me too.”

Neil nodded and let out another sigh before he pushed away. Too big was the fear of letting something slip that would only make it more difficult to go. He went back inside and watched the cat jumping down the armchair, striding over to Neil to weave between his legs. “You got a cat?”

“Aaron got her for me.”

“What’s her name?”

“King,” Andrew replied, leaning against the doorframe.

Neil hummed in acknowledgement and bent down to pet the soft fur, eliciting a purr from the small fluff ball. “Sounds like high maintenance.”

“Seems like every stray I take in is.”

Neil chuckled at that, his heart about to burst as he looked up and saw a smile tug on the corners of Andrew’s lips. “Yeah, seems so. You know, I don’t have much to offer, but I’m hungry. Wanna get dinner?”

Andrew watched Neil, saying nothing for a while. Then he answered, “Sure.” He walked over to a cork board to grab some menus and dropped them onto the sofa table, taking a seat. 

Neil tried to explain what his life had been like over the past years and listened intently as Andrew talked about his life as a lecturer and Aaron’s kids while they waited for the food to arrive. 

They ate in silence and Andrew introduced Neil to Marie Kondo while he resumed crocheting a plush fox for his nephew and niece, and Neil had never felt more at home in his life, like all the answers to the universe were hidden in this specific time frame, this specific moment of his life. 

He tried to memorize every single detail - matter he would draw strength from wherever he would be taken, not minding the silence at all, because words had always been nothing but futile devices.


	2. Hope Dies Last

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eight years ago, Neil Abram Josten aka Nick Abram Johnson aka Nathaniel Abram Wesninski was Andrew Minyard's roommate in college. Right when they were about to become a thing, Neil had to leave without leaving a message. Neil thought he would never see Andrew again up until the day when their paths cross in Chicago... and Andrew seems to be off the cards...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SO I'm not dead yet :-D Sorry for the posting breaks and stuff but I'm writing a lot for the Big Bang and yeah... you guys know depression, right? I wanted to make this even more painful than the first part and here I go and turn it into something... fluffy? At least hopeful. Let me know how you like this kind of special version...
> 
> TW: There are hints to a possible polyamorous relationship. I can't name the pairing just yet, bc it would take the surprise effect away, but Nora planned it originally to happen so....
> 
> Have fun lovelies <3

It had been eight years since Neil Josten had seen Andrew Minyard for what was supposed to be the last time ever, and here Neil was walking down the street, spotting the man in a long queue tapping along on his smartphone as he was obviously waiting for his food to be wrapped and packed.  


Neil had thought his brain was playing tricks on him the moment he’d spotted a familiar blond thatch with an even more familiar indifferent face, short and bulky frame wrapped in black skinnies and a tight black shirt.  


It could have been anyone, but the black armbands covering pale skin left no doubt.   


Eight years since Andrew had returned to an empty apartment, every trace of Nick Abram Johnson’s existence extinguished. Eight years since Nick Abram Johnson had been moved by WITSEC, pulled out of his life as a math and language student and thrown into a new identity once more, this time working as a call center agent. Eight years in which Nick Abram Johnson had gotten fifteen new identities, had gone through hell and back, had watched his father die, and yet he still couldn’t live freely with some of his father’s henchmen still on the run, waiting for the right moment to take Neil down.

Eight years since everything had changed and yet remained the same.  


Neil stared for a moment longer, allowing himself to grieve for something he and Andrew could have had, before he shook away memories of heated tongues dancing and hot hands mapping each other’s bodies. The cold October air suddenly stung on his flushed cheeks in the same way his numb heart stung at the sight of the person who could have been his future, who was still able to set his icy heart on fire in an instant.  


Neil fell back into his jogging before he could make a decision he would regret.  


Andrew Minyard had never been and would never be a possibility.

~  


October was still a month Andrew couldn’t like, no matter how beautiful the colours of the leaves turned out to be or how ardently Kevin, Nicky or Aaron tried to keep his mind occupied with something else. To fill it with anything but Nick Abram Johnson. In ten days it would be eight years since Abram had left Andrew behind, without a note, without a warning, disappearing as if the ground had opened up and swallowed him, leaving Andrew on the surface where he hadn’t belonged anymore.

Andrew hated Abram for everything he had done to him, but most of all for making him not hate him at all.

“Sir?”  


Andrew was shaken out of his thoughts by the barista’s soft voice, her face bearing an expression of pity and worry.  


“Sorry, a caramel chocolate fudge latte with extra whipped cream and chocolate chips. Extra tall.”

She entered his order without batting an eye, scribbling his name onto a huge cup and giving him a receipt. Andrew propped his back against a bar table, watching the bustling crowd behind the huge shop window. 2.7 million people and all he felt today was loneliness. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to think this way, Andrew knew it.

Andrew’s life was a different one now. With hard work and Kevin’s, Bee’s, Aaron’s and Nicky’s support he had made it. He was in a fulfilling relationship, he had a good job, he had friends and a family and everything he had never thought life would grant him. And yet, October still left him with an ache he couldn’t handle at times.

His eyes scanned unfamiliar faces, every single one seeming like nothing but a mere hologram, a blur. For years he’d searched for nothing but ocean eyes and freckles and soft curls that Andrew could still feel slip through his fingers. Together with his psychiatrist’s help, and with falling for another man, he’d slowly stopped, but in October he couldn’t help it.  


First, there had been flings, here and there - meaningless touches, meaningless kisses, meaningless sex in meaningless places. But nothing had made him feel again what he had felt for Abram. And then, after some time, he’d come to term with his pain and Abram’s choice, and he moved on and fell for the one person who’d always been by his side. The one who’d never shied away from him, not even in his darkest times. Missing Abram didn’t do justice to the man who had been standing by his side all these years.

Andrew’s fingers tapped along on the tabletop to a song he’d listened to this morning, long forgotten and still ever present in the back of his mind. When he closed his eyes he could still see his roommate singing along to it all summer, his curls dancing around as the boy had bopped his head, laughing delightedly whenever Andrew had turned off the radio to spite him.

There. Right there on the 4th of October, eight years after Andrew had come back to an empty apartment, to an empty bed, an empty life, Nick Abram Johnson passed by a coffee shop in the middle of Chicago, a thousand miles away from where their paths had crossed for the first time, making Andrew a witness to an impossible coincidence. Maybe his mind was fucking with him as it often did around the anniversaries, but Andrew was a drowning man and every straw held out to clutch onto was worth a try.  


Andrew didn’t even need to think about it. He didn’t give a single fuck about the coffee, rushing through the crowd, stumbling out the door and chasing after the auburn thatch he’d just spotted a second ago. The alley was crowded and Andrew damned every single person poking along in front of him and every single mother pushing around a stroller, keeping him from picking up the pace.  


He even stepped off the sidewalk, almost getting hit by a cyclist who cussed Andrew out in a way he’d rarely heard someone swear. The ginger rounded the corner, leaving Andrew only the option of elbowing people away to not lose him. The moment he reached the corner and rounded it, he looked into an empty street.  


In the distance, Andrew could see a father with his two kids, buying ice cream from a turquoise ice cream truck. A few shops lined the small alleyway, luring Andrew into looking through every single window, but his target was nowhere to be seen.

Andrew pushed back his bangs and sighed. Maybe it hadn’t been Abram in the first place. Maybe he was slowly going crazy. Maybe he should talk to Bee about upping his doses. Maybe he should cuddle into this big warm man waiting for him at home on the sofa.

He ambled over to the ice cream truck and bought a huge cup of chocolate and peppermint, slowly digging the little plastic spoon into the whipped cream covered with chocolate sauce and sprinkles. A huge splotch of ice cream melted on his tongue, giving him a tremendously painful brain freeze, glazing over memories of shared truths and slow kisses with a soothing cloud of numbness.

Maybe it was finally time to stop chasing a pipe dream.  


~

They had called at six in the morning, giving him nothing more than one day to pack his life into yet another set of boxes. Neil Josten would be gone in eighteen hours, nothing but a dead name in one of several FBI databases, marked as a used cover identity so it would never be available again.  


Neil was tired. He didn’t want to move again, didn’t want to leave the only two people he’d called friends in the past eleven months of his life in Chicago. He wanted to say goodbye, wanted to let Dan and Matt know that they would never see him again, that he had never been their co-worker but some walking disaster trapped in a protection system that kept him existing but not alive. He was damn tired of losing people he loved, although there wasn’t anything that could hurt him anymore. Not in the way it had hurt to leave Andrew behind, even if Andrew had always insisted on them having been nothing.

Rain had soaked his running gear some time ago. A look at his watch revealed he’d been running for over two hours. His body was covered with goosebumps, his slack jaw quivering, his teeth chattering. Tears sat in the corners of his eyes at the tightness in his chest, making breathing an impossibility. His eyes strayed to the street name sign and his lungs felt like collapsing. Looking up at the house number almost made him almost black out. Number 24. Seven parties. He scanned their names and stopped at one.  


Of all the possible directions, his feet had carried him to this house, only to let him down by the pile of shards that once used to be his life, his everything. Before he knew it, he’d rung the bell, the sound of the buzzer being nothing but a mere faint sound in his ears.

Neil walked up the stairs, his heart throbbing in his chest, feeling like coming to a halt with every inch he got closer to the fourth floor. It took him three attempts to finally knock on the wooden door in front of him, eyes blurry from tears and rain and panic.

When the door opened, every bit of oxygen left in his lungs got kicked out.  


~

Whoever dared to ring Andrew’s bell on the 14th of October was definitely suicidal. Even Aaron and Nicky had learned to not bother him whenever doomsday came around. The only person allowed in his orbit was Kevin. Andrew never left the house on this day, always cuddling up under a blanket with his cats, binge watching Netflix in a comfy sweater with ungodly amounts of ice cream and pizza. It wasn’t like he still had deeper feelings, not at all, but his trust had been broken back then and left an incredible pain.

Hence, it surprised him when the ring of the door bell resounded from the hallway while Marie Kondo helped drifted-apart couples to save their marriage by rearranging some cupboards. If only Andrew could just throw out some ugly mugs and unread books at times in order to get some closure.

When it rang again, he sighed and waited for Kevin to open the door.

~

“Hey,” Neil panted out before he collapsed against the wall, head sinking between his legs. “I’m sorry, I—You’re not Andrew.”

A tall, black haired man with piercing green eyes was towering over Neil, arms crossed in front of his broad chest and a frown putting wrinkles onto an otherwise flawless forehead. Neil’s first reaction revolved around fleeing the scenery, but now that he was here and had to leave soon for good anyway, he could as well try to explain himself.

“No, I’m not Andrew. May I ask who you are?” the guy at the door asked. Neil met his eyes and had the feeling he knew too well who was sitting here at his doorstep.  


“I’m… an old acquaintance. Is Andrew living here at all? I’m sorry— I don’t want to seem intrusive or even impose myself.” Neil raked a hand through his wet, dripping hair and rubbed his face. “I just— I’ve seen him a few days ago waiting at a food stall and… forget it,” Neil sighed and tried to get onto his shaking feet, thinking the earth was about to unravel, shaken by an earthquake initiated by Neil’s breaking heart.

Looking into the man’s eyes was a mistake. They were filled with a mixture of pity and anger and pain, and Neil was certain now that his identity wasn’t unknown. He was sure he’d seen this man before, but couldn’t make a connection.

“I don’t know where you take the audacity from to ring our bell on exactly this day, and I can tell you one thing: I don’t like you at all. Alas, I know that there’s probably someone willing to meet you, but I think I should let my husband speak for himself.”

The superiority and condescension dripping from the guy’s voice washed over Neil like a tsunami, leaving nothing but devastation in his chest, like a raging storm tearing down everything in its path.  _ Husband _ . Andrew had gotten married? A million thoughts started racing through Neil’s mind as he heard two people muttering in the apartment, waiting for the inevitable verdict.

~

Andrew had sat up on the sofa, a tub of fudge ice cream in his hand. He scooped some more pieces of fudge and vanilla ice cream out of the container as Kevin walked over and pressed a soft kiss to Andrew’s forehead before he took a seat next to him and spilled the tea. With the spoon sticking upside down in his mouth, Andrew almost choke on the melted mixture running down his throat.

His ears ringing and his head dizzy, Andrew walked to the door to build a connection between Kevin’s words and the unbelievability of it all, and let his eyes explore if Kevin was telling the truth. And then, his world collapsed.

Andrew wanted to say something, but it was as if his eidetic memory had combusted within a second, forgetting all words he had ever learned, leaving him to utmost blankness.  


“Hey, Andrew.”

_ Hey, Andrew. _ He had ripped out Andrew’s heart, had left behind nothing but a dysfunctional mess who had to fight so hard for ever feeling again since the day Abram had disappeared without another word, and here Abram was standing in front of him, letting out a shallow greeting with tears running down his perfect flushed cheeks, letting Andrew drown once more in the deep blue sea of his eyes.

“Hey,” Andrew eventually croaked out, stabbing the spoon into the tub like a needle into a voodoo doll as if it would make his aching heart more plausible.  


Abram propped his forehead onto his knees again. It seemed like he tried to draw breaths, but all Andrew could hear was gasping. It worked like an automatism, the way his hand came down and settled in the nape of Abram’s neck, squeezing slightly like it had happened a thousand times before.

“Breathe, Abram.”

It took some time for his breathing to even out, but it eventually did and Abram got up off the floor. Andrew led him inside their apartment, shutting up Marie Kondo and walking Abram over to the sofa where Kevin was sitting. It was the same one as back in college where they had spent so many nights talking, sharing secrets, getting closer and kissing, comfortably surrounded by the soft upholstery.

When Andrew was sure Abram wouldn’t collapse right there, he strolled over to the fridge and took out a bottle of water and two bottles of beer. Abram accepted the water with a small nod, wiping away the remnants of tears with the sleeve of his shirt.  


They sat in silence for what felt like an eternity, and Andrew felt like he was coming apart at the seams at the sight of the one person he’d always wanted to see once more, just to make sure he wasn’t dead so he could kill him himself for what he had done to him.

“Abram,” he finally said, unable to stand the silence any longer. “What are you doing here?” Andrew sighed and put down his glasses, pinching his nose in exhaustion. Kevin shot him a worrying look, but knew Andrew too well to say something. Abram looked at Andrew, pupils still dilated from the adrenaline rushing through his body.  


“I- I don’t know, to be honest. I got a call this morning and- Listen, I know this sounds like a huge joke to you and I know what I’ve done to you isn’t excusable at all, but I panicked and I saw you a few days ago and I know I shouldn’t have done that - I really shouldn’t have - but I did, so I googled your address and this morning, when that call came in, I panicked and somehow I ended up here, because—”  


Andrew really tried to follow all the words which tumbled out of Abram’s mouth, clinging to his lips to not miss a detail -  _ not _ because his eyes had analyzed Abram’s lips anyway - but none of this made sense.  


“Andrew?”  


_ Shit. _ “I’m listening.” Andrew took a swig of beer and pressed his lips into a flat line.

“Oh. What I want to say is, I feel safe with you and I shouldn’t have bothered you and I think it’s better for me to go now. Sorry,” Abram said and got up from the sofa, stumbling towards the door. “Congrats to your marriage, by the way. I think you made a great decision with moving on.”

“Abram,” Andrew said as the man was about to push down the door handle and slip out, running away, leaving Andrew behind once more, but this time, Andrew wouldn’t let him. He couldn’t. He couldn’t let this man go, not again, all his questions still unanswered. Maybe, if he talked to him, Andrew could finally go on.  


Bee and him had talked about that scenario once, about what Andrew would do if he ever met Abram again. Andrew had said he would ignore or kill him. Bee had suggested he should talk to him to finally put the whole thing behind himself. Now, with the man finally standing in front of him, Andrew wanted to do neither. He wanted to tear the whole world down, rip this pipe dream apart like he had torn his heart into a million pieces when he’d disappeared eight years ago.

His stupid mouth betrayed him the moment he opened it. “Stay,” Andrew said, not even looking in the direction of the door, but with an intense stare to Kevin who nodded in approval. It was one of the things that showed Andrew every day why Kevin had been the right choice; they shared the same sense of protection.  


The door snapping shut was enough of an answer. Feet thumping onto the floor brought the rabbit back into the living room, fight or flight mode put on stand-by.

Abram slumped down into the cushions in defeat. Andrew recognized that he hadn’t changed a lot since college, except for a set of scars on both of his cheeks and all over his hands, but Andrew didn’t care at all. All he saw was the same gorgeous face he’d fallen for a long time ago and which still haunted him some nights. It hadn’t even been a decade, but looking at the man’s face, one would bet it had been a century. Abram looked much older, wrinkles around his eyes and on his forehead, dark circles emphasizing how worn out he had to be. His face dropped into his scarred hands that rubbed over stubbly cheeks.

“Sleep. You look like a zombie,” Andrew eventually said, throwing a blanket and a pillow at Abram who caught them out of reflex.  


“Andrew, I don’t run over to you, have a breakdown in your hallway and sleep on your sofa. I mean,” Neil scoffed, then huffed, “don’t you have questions? Don’t you wanna know why I’m here? You sit there with your indifferent face, trying to prove to me or yourself or the world that you are not affected by all this, but I still know you. I still feel your tension radiating from your body and I’m sure even down the street I would feel it right now. You don’t de—”

“What? I don’t deserve this? I didn’t deserve you packing your stuff in the dead of night, leaving me behind after all the things I entrusted you with? Yet, you did it. So don’t come at me now with your sense of fairness. Nothing about this was ever fair,” Andrew hissed, biting the inside of his cheek. “And yet, I won’t do this to you. Whatever happened to you. It doesn’t matter now. What matters now is that you’re here. You’re soaked to your bones. You’re shivering. So get into the damn shower and take a nap. We’ll talk when you’re rested,” Andrew finished what was probably his most emotional outburst ever.

Andrew walked into the bedroom, taking a set of sweats and a big towel, and pushed the pile into Abram’s arm. “You reach the bathroom through the bedroom. I’ll prepare some tea.”

“Thank you,” Abram muttered and disappeared through the bedroom door.  


When Andrew heard the spray being turned on, he walked into the kitchen and chugged his beer while he waited for the kettle to boil up water for a pot of Earl Grey with lemon - just how Abram always liked it. He put the kettle down onto the end table with milk, a cup and a saucer, before he had to face Kevin who was leaning against the doorframe.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Andrew said and propped his waist against the kitchen counter. Kevin’s look was cold, but understanding, arrogant but kind. It was just how Kevin was.  


“How do you feel about this? I mean,” Kevin sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his stubble, “I can practically see how much you try to contain your posture, but I also know that he was the one supposed to be in my place and now he’s here and—”

“Kevin, stop!” Andrew interrupted and pushed away from the counter. He came to a halt in front of Kevin and cupped his beautiful and tired face, pulling him down for a kiss. “You know me. Whatever Abram and I had, it’s us now.”

Andrew huffed as Kevin’s face relaxed, the tension and fear slowly slipping away. Kevin was a successful athlete, wealthy, gorgeous and married to a man whose promises were unbreakable, and yet he was fearing to be pushed away for some pipe dream stumbling through their door.

“Okay,” Kevin muttered and leaned in for another kiss, gently pulling Andrew into a hug. Their height difference was still weird, even after all these years, but Kevin’s scent had an incredibly calming effect on Andrew’s tingling nerves. “I want to get answers. I don’t know what he’s been through, but it looks like his life hasn’t been a cake walk so far. Whatever haunts him, it looks severe. You shouldn’t let him down,” Kevin whispered into Andrew’s hair, nose nuzzling his scalp.

“What shall I do? Take him in like a stray just because he ends up on our porch in a frenzy?”  


Kevin pulled away and cupped Andrew’s cheek, his thumb stroking over his skin, sending a comfortable shiver through Andrew’s body. “You always had a heart for strays,” he said and kissed Andrew one last time, before he went into his office.

Could it really be so easy? What a lost cause Andrew was.

~

Neil woke up to the buzz of guitar strings with the blanket covering his head. He stretched his stiff body, making his vertebrae and joints pop. Sunlight hit his face and made him squint as he opened his eyes, feeling disoriented.  


Only when he spotted Andrew in a lounge chair by the window did his rising panic subside, replaced by warmth and safety. Andrew held a guitar in his lap and played with his eyes closed, humming along to a song Neil knew too well, sunlight highlighting Andrew’s fair hair and lashes. Neil thought he looked like some mystical figure, illuminated by heavenly light as if some god wanted to tell him: Look, there he is, the chosen one, your savior.

The armchair opposite to the sofa held a calico cat, lying on its back and playing with a red ball of wool, destroying whatever Andrew had crocheted before. Neil’s chest swelled at the sight, reminiscing about the blond in sweatpants with his glasses on, fidgeting with wool and a crochet hook, all to gift Neil a handmade beanie for his “birthday”.

The clock on the wall made Neil realize he had slept for four hours. Four hours since he’d stepped out of Andrew’s shower and had lain down on the familiar sofa. It felt like he had slept for days, warm and safe. Neil had asked himself a million times after being moved why only Andrew had ever been capable of making him feel like that. Neil had never felt like that again - never until today. He had realized far too late that he could only feel this with Andrew because their nothing had indeed been everything - at least to him - but that was over.

Neil ardently hoped for an alternate universe where they could have this, could have each other. If not now, then maybe one day, but it definitely wasn’t this one. He would have to leave soon and by six in the morning, Agent Browning would long have found a new place for Neil to stay. Not for Neil. Neil was only temporary. For  _ Nathaniel _ .  


As he swung his legs over the edge of the sofa and got up, he pushed away the dark thoughts trying to nestle in his brain. He moved over to the lounge chair and watched the metal vibrate underneath Andrew’s fingers. How he wished he could stay.  


If Andrew knew how often Neil had thought about how their lives could have looked if they had lived it together? If he knew that Neil was regretting his decision to go into WITSEC every day just because of Andrew? If he knew what Neil would give to just stay here, with his friends and him, watching him play guitar all day or crochet or snuggle up on the sofa with the cats in their laps, Neil’s head propped onto Andrew’s soft ice cream tummy? If he knew that he regretted every single day of his life that he had never told him the three words he’d wanted to tell him ever since they’d first kissed under the star-covered night sky in Andrew’s black Maserati almost a decade ago?

If Andrew didn’t know by now, he never would. The music had stopped.

“Hey,” Neil said, but didn’t move any closer.  


Andrew looked up at him, set the guitar aside and put on his glasses. “Hey. Slept well, rabbit?”

“Better than… I don’t know the last time I’ve slept so well,” Neil admitted with a hoarse voice, the collar of Andrew’s shirt slipping over his right shoulder as he rubbed his eyes. Andrew’s frame was still much broader than Neil’s, even though his tummy seemed even softer now than back then. Neil almost smiled at his discovery.  


Andrew got up and walked out onto the balcony, shaking out two cigarettes. He held one out for Neil who took it between his trembling hands and lit them.  


“I guess I owe you some answers,” Neil said and took a drag, igniting the cherry.  


Andrew’s eyes wandered over Neil’s face as he let out a waft of smoke. “Go ahead.”

Neil rubbed one foot over his shin, sighing exhaustedly. “Listen, I—” Neil stopped and rubbed his face once more. “Andrew, I never wanted to go. I had to.”

Andrew raised a brow and took another drag, blowing smoke into Neil’s face. “Was it fun to leave without a note, Johnson?”

Neil flinched at the name, not having heard it for such a long time. “It’s Josten.”

“What?”

“Josten. Neil Abram Josten, at least for now. It has never been Nick Johnson, and no, it isn’t Neil Josten either, so there’s no need to google it tomorrow.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m that desperate.” Andrew stared at Neil intently. “You’re like a walking conundrum, Abram. I can’t figure you out.”

“I’m nothing to be solved, Andrew.”

“Has everything been nothing but a lie?” Andrew stubbed his cigarette out and propped his back against the rail, gaze empty. “Don’t bullshit me!”

Neil swallowed at the harsh tone, but he knew it was an expression of how hurt Andrew really was. “Andrew,” he answered lowly, stepping into Andrew’s comfort zone with eyes darting to the blond’s mouth. “You have to believe me when I say I never wanted to leave you behind. I—You meant— Nothing has ever been harder than leaving you. I didn’t have a choice. I— My father, he… was a cruel man. I’m in WITSEC. They moved me without asking me because someone caught up to me.”

Andrew’s lips were pressed into a flat line, but his eyes showed everything he was feeling. Anger. Confusion. Fear. Neil lifted his hand but stopped right before cupping Andrew’s cheek. “Yes or no, Drew?” Another familiar ritual in a world full of insecurities.  


“Yes,” Andrew breathed and closed his eyes for a moment as Neil cupped his cheek.  


“I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

“Can you tell me now?”

Neil huffed, shaking his head. “I wish I could, but I can’t. Not today.”

“If not today, then when?” Andrew asked, pushing Neil against the glass door. They were only a few inches apart now, so close that Neil could feel Andrew’s breath dancing over his face.

“When it’s safe,” Neil whispered and Andrew nodded. Heat shot through Neil’s body at their closeness, at Andrew’s familiar scent, and it seemed like the man could read his thoughts when he gripped Neil’s chin and tilted it up.  


“Don’t ever do this to me again, Abram. Whatever they say, stay. Stay because I won’t wait another ten years for this.”  


Neil had never heard Andrew like that. Andrew had always been like a closed book to everyone. All the more, Neil knew how much it meant to Andrew that Neil got to know this. “I wish I could just stay,” Neil said and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wish I would have never left. And you have Kevin now…”

“Then don’t leave again.” He said it as if it was the easiest and most obvious thing in the world, the sunset at his back creating a glowing halo around his frame. “And Kevin knows, you know?”

“Knows what?”

“About us. About what… you meant to me. It’s one of the reasons why he’s in your place.” Andrew’s eyes wandered into the distance, his irises like amber and honey. “He knows my promise stands - until death do us part.”

“What’s the sense in staying then?”

“That doesn’t mean I can only promise it once.”

Neil’s chest flooded with too many emotions to handle. Was Andrew promising him a future? Neil huffed internally. It was like offering a broken rubber dinghy to a man about to drown on the high seas.

“I’m tired,” Neil said, knowing that Andrew knew what he meant. Tired of leaving, tired of running, tired of lying.  


“Me too.”

Neil nodded and let out another sigh before he pushed away. Too big was the fear of letting something slip that would only make it more difficult to go. He went back inside and watched the cat jumping down the armchair, striding over to Neil to weave between his legs.  


“You got a cat?”

“She sat on my balcony one day. A stray.”

“What’s her name?”

“King,” Andrew replied, leaning against the doorframe.

Neil hummed in acknowledgement and bent down to pet the soft fur, eliciting a purr from the small fluff ball. “Sounds like high maintenance.”

“Seems like every stray I take in is.”

Neil chuckled at that, his heart about to burst as he looked up and saw a smile tug on the corners of Andrew’s lips. “Yeah, seems so. You know, I don’t have much to offer, but I’m hungry. Wanna get dinner?”

Andrew watched Neil, saying nothing for a while. Then he answered, “Sure.” He walked over to a cork board to grab some menus and dropped them onto the sofa table, taking a seat.  


Kevin came out of his office and dropped his order, taking a seat close to Andrew and wrapping a protective arm around his middle. They looked so… familiar. Seeing what Neil had missed out on was tremendously painful, but he was happy for Andrew, because Andrew was happy.

Neil tried to explain what his life had been like over the past years and listened intently as Andrew talked about his life as a lecturer. Kevin told their story - how they went a long way from best friends in college - Neil had never met him because Kevin had studied at a different college - to a married couple living their life in Chicago with Kevin playing for the local team and Andrew teaching Literature at the local college. From time to time Aaron and Katelyn came over with their kids and all in all, they were living a good life.  


When the food arrived, they ate in silence and Andrew introduced Neil to Marie Kondo while he resumed crocheting a plush fox for his nephew and niece, and Neil had never felt more at home in his life, like all the answers to the universe were hidden in this specific time frame, this specific moment of his life.  


His mind started spiraling into fantasies about becoming a part of Andrew’s life again. Maybe not like he could have been one if he had stayed all those years ago, but as a friend. Maybe he could settle here in Chicago for the long haul, visit the couple from time to time or spend Thanksgiving with them just to stumble back into his apartment where a cat or two would wait for him. What if his life could take a turn and finally become a good one? What if he enjoyed the rub of the green for once and Andrew and Kevin would take him into their lives?

Nothing but pipe dreams but hope dies last, right?

Neil tried to memorize every single detail - matter he would draw strength from wherever he would be taken, not minding the silence at all, because words had always been nothing but futile devices. And maybe, just maybe, he would wake up on this sofa tomorrow and wouldn’t need the memories at all.


End file.
